


Heartache

by lemonthea



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, au where everything is the same except claire doesn’t have amnesia for some reason, claire is sad that’s it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29313489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonthea/pseuds/lemonthea
Summary: Claire has a dream about her mother.
Relationships: Claire Elford & Fiona Elford
Kudos: 4





	Heartache

It’s rare that Claire has dreams that are much more than glorified fantasies about infinite cake or baths of tea, but when she does they feel vivid. She remembers them long after she wakes up, the emotions that come with them buzzing in the back of her head for hours after the fact.

Claire isn’t conscious of how she ended up in her childhood home, but she recognises it immediately. Something is off, but she can’t put her finger on what. Maybe the walls aren’t exactly the right shade or the pictures on them aren’t quite in the correct places. Even if she stopped and thought about it, Claire doesn’t think she would remember; it’s been years, after all. Barely considering her own actions or taking time to think about where she is, she opens the door closest to her as if drawn to it.

It’s the kitchen, vaguely the way she remembers it. And sitting alone, at the table in the middle of the room is...

“Mom?”

Claire stares. It's her mother. It really is. Her mother is here, just like she has desperately yearned for for years. She opens her mouth to say more. There's so much for her to say, she's replayed this scenario in her head over and over, knowing it would never really come true, and yet here's her opportunity right here and now and... 

A sob escapes her lips and she quickly presses a hand to her mouth, but tears gather at her waterline before she can stop them. Her mother just smiles, standing up as she opens her arms and Claire almost collapses into them. It doesn't feel quite right. Her mother isn't warm in the way that she remembers and the hugs she used to give were tighter than this one but Claire doesn't care.This is all she can have and she knows it. If she can never speak to her mother again, then she doesn't mind if she has to cling to a fleeting dream that her lonely subconscious created for that exact reason. 

Her mother doesn't speak, and, as desperately as she wants to be comforted and reminded that she is (or _was_ ) loved, Claire is glad for it because she knows that if she did, the illusion would be broken. She doesn't remember the sound of her mother's voice. She knows that she doesn’t and even in a dream like this she will never be able to recreate it.

Ordinarily, Claire has a hard time figuring out how to express emotions like this and yet here, she cries without holding anything back. She feels like she is a child again, in a world where her emotions flow through her without any need to control them. Where she doesn't consider adult concepts like shame or embarrassment for allowing her emotions to take their hold on her. Where she can be comforted by a version of her mother that is not quite real but close enough for her to pretend.

Claire falls apart here because in real life she is too afraid to. In real life, even thinking about her mother feels illicit. If she lets just a small crack of pain in, everything else will force its way through and she would break into pieces. But here, she can keep everything separate. If her feelings are all collected in one place, she can simply brush them aside when she needs to hold herself together and she can keep _living_.She has so much that she needs to say.

“I miss you.”  
“Thank you.”  
“You were a great mom.”  
“You didn’t deserve this.”

As well as:

“I need you.”  
“How could you leave me?”  
“I don't want to live without you.”  
“I’m scared.”

But all she can do is sob against her mother's chest as she holds her, the heartache and inconsolable yearning Claire keeps inside feeling more vivid than they have in years. Carefully, she pulls away. She can't bring herself to look at her mother but she manages to choke out just a whisper.

“I love you. I’ll always love you and it’s tearing me apart."

Her mother reaches forward and gently places a hand on her daughter's cheek. As Claire feels herself cry once again, she tilts her head up until they're looking eye to eye and-  


* * *

Claire wakes up to a wet pillow and an aching in the ever-present hole in her chest. Of course it was fitting that she couldn’t have the closure she so badly needed even in a dream. When she had nightmares as a child, her mother would let Claire sleep with her in her own bed. Claire remembers the warmth that had washed over her as she lay beside her mother, like a protective barrier. No matter how afraid she was, she had always been safe there.

But this wasn't a nightmare. The scary part wasn't being alone in the strange world in her head, it was having to leave it. And she can't crawl in her mother's bed and forget everything. She can't hide behind a wall of safety. She can't ask someone else to protect her because her mother will never be there for her when she needs her again. Instead Claire just lies alone, shivering, in the empty house that doesn't feel like a home.


End file.
